"Whu... who? Oh. Rippy dead? Goods job." Agna pulls out the healy-wand and hits herself first.
Then she stands and moves over to Nurpus, healing him once.
Then she turns to all of Rippy's former guards. "YOU GOBBO-$%*&ING IDIOTS! NOW YOU SEE WE'S BEST GOBLINS! RIPPY WAS NEVER GOOD ENOUGH TO BE CHIEF!"
She then proceeds to heal herself, Nurpus, and the others to full.
Self: 2 charges, full
Nurpus: 4 charges, full.
Mug: 1 charge, 33/36
Bart: 1 charge, 40/43
Torch, angered at having been ignored in the round of healing, says, "Hmph. And who keep guards off you while you napping?"
"Oh hush, I's gettin' to you. What you set fire to this time?"
Torch: 2 charges, 34/36
"You hear dat Purpus? He dead. No good gobbo dead!"
"Torch not set fire to anything!" Torch replies, though there is a sparkle in his eyes that suggests the thought has occurred to him.
"Nones of us die. That good. You say we need moot now? Agna no chief. Yous other gobs moot. Agna root for favorite." She then winks at Nurpus, having been impressed by his gun's head-blowing-off ability previously.
"Agna smart.. she be good help to a chief."
Bart shakes his head "Good chief need to not get killed. Not getting killed is more important job of chief. One Rippymuppy clearly failed. Some of you get too close for Bart's comfort. Also don't have big enough heads."
Bart nods as he gets to the final and clearly most important line.
"Bart's head too big!" Torch screams. "Crown never fit right!"
As the goblins all stand around, mostly patting themselves on the back for the fine work they did in overthrowing the vile and pitiful rulership of Ripnugget, the rest of the goblins start running about and cleaning up. Several busy themselves with dragging corpses out of the building while others are busy picking through the pockets of those corpses in hopes for some piece of overlooked loot. Outside the building the call goes out to the remaining goblins within the city that the chieftain has been slain and a new chieftain needs to be selected. The calls of "Moot! Moot!" ring out through the city and Sandpoint explodes into action.
As the goblin heroes step out of the hall to get a look at all of the activity, they see goblins running here and there throughout the city, same carrying loads of food and drink to the square, while others rummage through boxes and crates digging out all manner of strange items. Standing in the center of the square, still proud and mighty, is the massive wooden and straw statue erected to honor the late chieftain.
"Hey! You a$$holes stop stealing OUR LOOT!"
Agna will scream at all the looters and take back as much as possible from them. Especially anything that Rippy had on him.
Agna will use some of that loot to barter for a Reach metamagic rod if there is one available (normal price 3000gp).
Mugmuff will snatch anything from the loot that looks interesting and stop as much looting as possible. "STOP THIS! Belongs to new chiefs until moot and then belongs to new CHIEF... until then keep paws off, stoopid gobbos!"
Torch is sizing up the throne, envisioning himself upon it. He stands still with a dreamy look in his eyes.
Bart grabs torch and drags him outside to the massive wooden and straw statue of ole rippy.
Bart nods solemnly at Torch. "Burn it."
Torch does as he is bidden with great delight, igniting the statue of Ripnugget and then stepping back to enjoy the pyre.
Bart looks around for good sticks to make skewers out of.
Agna will simply lick her wounds and go find a soft place to sleep. It's been a long day.
Nurpus follows Agna's idea and sleeps off his near-death hangover.
Under Bart's urging, Torch does what Torch does best, and spots the most flammable section of the massive statue, even going so far as to add a bit of his own tinder to help the monstrosity's desire to burn brightly. With a smooth placement of his namesake, the wood at the base of the contraption springs to life, flames gently licking at the dried wood and straw. In moments the fires begin to take on a life of their own, quickly climbing up one leg of the giant statue and spreading quickly.
All around the square goblins take notice of the burning pyre and begin to panic, screaming and cowering at the sight of their former chieftain, returned from the grave in a massive conflagration of retribution and anger! Many of the goblins prostrate themselves before the roaring blaze, begging forgiveness for the errors of their ways and beseeching with the now godlike image of the burning Ripnugget to spare their lives. Then, many other goblins begin to sing and dance, not afraid of the massive burning image, but rather celebrating it. They cheer out and chant about the fall of the vicious leader who didn't share the spoils of war with the other goblins. They cry out for the fire to consume the statue and with it, the memory of the foul goblin leader.
"Burning fire, bestest light,"
"Rippy dead, hims lost the fight!"
"Gobs can dance and gobs can cheer,"
"Bestest new chiefs has comes to here!"
"Old chief dead, him gived the boot,"
"Tomorrow we has new chief's moot!"
The cowering and sniveling goblins soon recover from their brief moments of sorrow and despair and begin to sing and dance with the other goblins, and soon the whole square is full of celebrating goblins, all singing the praises of the new chieftain prospects. Food and drink is passed around and before too long most of the goblins are either too full to dance or too drunk to stand. Finally, a good while later, the last of the wooden supports of the massive statue give way to the weight of the remainder of the construct, and everything comes crashing down in a tumultuous avalanche of burned wood and heated metal. Several goblins are slain outright by the collapse, but the rest just cheer in scream in delight as the tribute to their former leader is destroyed.
Mugmuff watches the spectacle from the shadows, just smiling to himself... When the feasting and partying begin to wind down and the statue collapses, he finds himself a safe place to bed down and goes to sleep, either alone or with company.
Agna is way too tired for boom-boom and will throw a sharp object at Mug if he suggests it. :-P
"Fine then! No boom-boom. Agna no be fun." Mugmuff curls up a short distance away and goes to sleep.
Bart will find a nice pile of rubble to sleep in.
The goblin heroes all find a place to settle in for the night, preparing to get some rest before the big chieftain moot. Mugmuff tries to creep up on Agna for a bit of snuggle time, only to be chased off with a sharp stick and a cold stare. Torch, completely happy with himself and the massive fire that consumed the statue of Ripnugget, sleeps like a baby.
In the morning the heroes are startled awake by the blaring of off-key trumpeting, as the goblins signal the grand day that is at hand. As they drag themselves out of whatever hole they slept in, they stumble towards the main square where the mass of goblin spectators is growing. All goblins, big and small, struggle for a better view of the event, even if that means stepping or climbing on another goblin. In the center of the square, standing in front of the charred remains of the burnt statue, stands the goblin shaman, Crazyeye. True to his name, the goblin has one eye that constantly rolls around in its socket, never fixing on any one thing for more than a brief moment.
As the last of the goblins trickle in, the shaman calls out to the gathered masses. "Ho alls! On dis most special of days, we's come to decide who's be the new bestest goblin chieftain war leader of tribes!" the shaman says, which is followed by a riotous round of cheering and applause. The shaman pats his hands down in front of him, trying to signal an end to the noise, "There be many great gobs who's thinks they gots the stuffs to be bestest chieftain, but only one crown. Gob who wins at Moot wins crown!" he says, followed by even more cheering and catcalling.
The shaman looks around the gathered horde and demands, "Let any gob who thinks deys bestest for chieftain come forward, and tells tribes why dey bestest for job!"
Agna will not step forward herself, but will endorse Bart as her candidate if and when he steps forward.
Mugmuff considers whether or not he wants to be chief... and decides he'd rather endorse a candidate and be sneaky behind the throne than actually occupying it. He will wait to see who steps up before deciding on a gob to support.
Nurpus also stays back, he keeps an eye out for any other goblins (other than us) that look like they may be considering stepping up.
Bart steps up "Bart have biggest bestest head to be biggest bestest chief!"
Mugmuff pulls Bart aside and says quietly to Bart alone, <whisper> "Gobs no be happy without a moot. Mugs no want be chief, but I will fight you for it, and take a fall early... you no kill I, I no kill you... you be chief, yes?"
Torch steps forward. "Torch makes bestest gob chief cuz me have fire!"
Mugmuff stays in the background, and lets Torch and Bart fight this out.
As the two lone goblins stride forward, the gathered crowd cheers with delight. Chants rise up within the goblin ranks for one or the other, most goblins having an obvious favorite. These faces were not new or strange to them, as these were the goblin heroes that led the charge against the longshank forces of Sandpoint, lit the beacon that signaled the attack from the combined tribes, and soundly dealt with all of the major threats that could have prevented the goblin invasion. These two were true heroes of the goblin people, and picking between them would be no easy task.
Once the gathered goblins start to settle, Crazyeye motions for each to step forward, presenting them before the crowd and calling for an official start to the moot. "Here be de bestest gobs for the job, ready for making with the moot and letting fate decide who be da leader of all dem gobs." the shaman says, waving a hand out towards the seething mass of goblin flesh gathered to observe the spectacle. "We be making dis with three tests! Dems that make bestest gob in tests is proved chieftain." More cheers, more squeals, an occasional shout of pain as goblin feet are stepped on in the crowd.
"For them first test, we's find out whos fastest and bestest at gettin them things from hard places and bringing thems back! Ready the Fire Dancer! the shaman exclaims!
The mass of goblins parts like a huge wave, revealing a clear path to the northern section of the square, lit with torches. The shaman escorts both of the goblins through the newly opened path and away from the square. After a few minutes the heroes, goblin crowd in tow, arrive at a clearing in the northern section of Sandpoint. In the middle of the clearing are two rows of rough logs, with several upright logs placed along the path. From the standing logs hang ropes, and affixed to those ropes are large balls of pitch. At the far end of the log row is a box, full of metal bits and springs.
"Ok! Them gobs must run through the Fire Dancer and finds the treasure in the box. Once hims has the treasure, hims comes back to the start! Any questions? As if on queue, at the end of the shaman's speech several goblins take up torches and light the balls of pitch, pushing them and setting them swaying across the rows of logs, dripping bits of fire as they sway back and forth.
Torch dances easily between the obstacles, laughing as he goes. Seeing Bart get swatted, he breaks into raucous laughter.
He has a moment's trouble in finding the right box, but quickly locates it. Noticing that Bart is also finished, he grows worried and forgets to dodge on the way back.
Torch gets a +4 on saves to avoid catching himself on fire, not that it helped.
Bart sees Torch zoom off to a head start but quickly follows behind.
Bart's gigantic head betrays him as he takes some flaming pitch to the side of the head.
Bart uses the extra light from the pitch stuck to the side of his head to help illuminate the boxes and choose the right one.
Having lost track of Torch Bart goes barreling back through the pitch, no longer worried about dodging.
Mugmuff cheers for Bart when Bart is ahead and for Torch when Torch is ahead... He's not so much concerned about who wins, as his own particular neck isn't on the line, but his future is pretty much tied to whoever does win and as long as it's a friend, he's not particular.
The goblins surrounding the contraption cheer and shout as the two goblins race against each other, both striving to become the next chieftain. Torch's natural agility works in his favor as the two arrive at the finish line almost simultaneously, but with Torch having avoided more of the swinging balls of flaming pitch and therefore the winner. As the cross the finish line the gathered goblins raises their voices even louder, and the two goblin heroes take a moment to bask in the glory of their successful completion of the course.
The shaman Crazyeye raises his staff above his head, and a burst of light causes all of the goblins to quickly lower their voices and observe him, listening intently. "Dem gobs both did good and founds the treasure, but dis gob be less burnt! he calls out, raising Torch's hand which results in more cheering and screaming from the crowd. "NOW, he shouts, settling them down once more, "A good chief must be quick, but him musts too have guts of iron! When faced with a crazy nord hims must stand firm! So now we tests dems guts!" As he finishes his sentence the crowd parts once more, and several goblins come forward, wheeling a ramshackle and hastily constructed large table behind them. Stacked on the table are several chairs and underneath the table a large box is affixed beneath the surface. Dominating the center of the table is a large hole, and a foul stench issues forth from the hole.
The goblins stop near the shaman and lower their end of the table to the ground and quickly back away after putting the chairs onto the ground. Crazyeye gazes around the crowd before stopping at the two heroes. "Yous both now proves yous have da strongest guts for da job! Time for Barf Box! With that most of the surrounding goblins cheer and shout at the top of their lungs, while many others make slight gagging noises, obviously having seen this one before.
"Object of dis test is to eat da most goodies from the box without barfing them up. First one to gobble down six yummies is the winner! Grabs yer seat and dig in!"
"Go Bart! Get that big head of yours in the box!!! Eat up!!
"Go Torch! You can do this! No burnings, but eatings up!!!"
Agna wrinkles her nose at the stench issuing from the box. "That gross. Yous can do it, Bart!"
Bart looks smug, confident that his bigger head will see him through, then he glances over at torch, worried that the cheaty underhanded goblin will somehow sterilize the worst parts of his meal with fire.
Bart shoves his hand into the box and comes up with a wet ball of hair. Bart hesistates for a moment, suddenly remember the awful painting he licked at the manor
before opening his mouth all the way, leaning back and dropping the hairball straight down his throat.